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EARLY DAYS 

on the 

WESTERN RANGE 

A PASTORAL NARRATIVE 



BY 
C. C. WALSH 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 

1917 



« .-<>' 



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NOV \i-h\i 



CoPYKIGHT, 1917 

Sherman, French &> Company 



g)Qi A.47^507 



INTRODUCTION 

As the East comes to appreciate more sym- 
pathetically the West and its place in the 
nation, and as the West becomes more con- 
scious of itself, the distinctive contributions of 
the West to the country's development grow in 
interest to the average man. More than 
any other influence in recent years, the World's 
Fair at San Francisco turned the eyes of 
the people of the Atlantic Coast to the 
Rocky Mountains and valleys of California. 
No longer can a New Englander say he 
has been "out West" when his journey 
takes him no further than across the Hudson 
River. 

He has discovered that there is something 
worth seeing and knowing about the " big 
spaces " beyond the Mississippi River as well 
as in the countries of Europe. And from this 
time on, especially after travel through the 
Panama Canal is no longer interrupted by dis- 
astrous slides, the big West will witness tour- 
ists in ever increasing numbers. 

The cattleman has been an important figure 



INTRODUCTION 

in making the West habitable. He and his 
sons folloAved close on the heels of the American 
explorer and the American soldier. In fact, 
the courageous cowboy was always found rid- 
ing shoulder to shoulder with Uncle Sam's cav- 
alry in ridding the frontier of marauding In- 
dians, white desperadoes, or other enemies of 
civilization. 

About the life of the cowboy, removed as he 
was from the restraining conventions of so- 
ciety — a life that required daring and phys- 
ical skill of a high order — has centered much 
romantic interest. Chivalric, adventurous, 
fearless, he has been fitly compared in resource- 
fulness and courage to the Vikings of the 
northern seas. From his life of group isolation 
has evolved something of the clan spirit of 
Scotland. He has created a robust vernacu- 
lar; he has developed a body of unique and 
delightful songs, commemorating his own heroic 
deeds ; he has created verse devoted to the same 
theme. 

In Mr. Walsh's little volume, many of the 
outstanding characteristics have been faith- 
fully portrayed. Here we catch some glimpses 
of the conditions and privations which the cow- 
boy had to face; we see him at work and at 
play; we learn something of his wholesome 
philosophy ; we catch glimpses of his social out- 



INTRODUCTION 

look. In this book, written in simple verse, in 
a style which will appeal to the youngest as 
well as the most mature minds, we may read 
the annals of the West wherein the cowboy 
played his part. To those readers who are at 
all familiar with the western range life as lived 
by the cowboy and ranchman, even the swing 
of the lines as the story unfolds has a tendency 
to suggest the quiet monotony and oppressive 
stillness of the unchanging plains, and the com- 
monplaceness of the dead flat of the boundless 
prairies. 

Owen Wister has told the best of all cowboy 
romances. Poetry, story, and song are yet to 
be written that will adequately commemorate 
the work of this most virile of all the pioneers* 
— the American cowboy. 

John A. Lomax. 

The University of Texas, 
May 25, 1917. 



PREFACE 

" Simply told, and every word true," as one 
old time " cowpuncher " has expressed it, is the 
only virtue claimed for the pastoral narrative, 
" Early Days on the Western Range." 

Nearly a century ago, there lay south and 
west of the Mississippi River a vast stretch of 
country now included in Oklahoma, Texas, 
Arizona, and New Mexico, known as " No Man's 
Land," where immense and far reaching plains 
lay in open ranges, with countless thousands of 
wild buffalo, wild cattle, deer, and antelope, and 
still wilder men roaming with the changing 
seasons from valley to valley, mesa to mesa, and 
divide to divide. The luxuriant grasses; the 
mild and temperate climate ; the pure and brac- 
ing atmosphere, as clear as water, as strong 
as wine; the boundless prairies carpeted with 
a startling profusion of beautiful wild flowers ; 
the green and purple mountains in the distance ; 
the soft and fleecy clouds floating in the azure 
sky overhead; the verdure-lined pasture lands 
through which the crystal streams of purest 
water wound their way to the sea, golden 



PREFACE 

threads in the sunlight, ribbons of shining sil- 
ver in the moonlight ; the bubbling springs in 
the sylvan dells, fed by the winter snows from 
the lofty mountain gorges — all these extended 
an invitation to those romantic spirits of our 
young American manhood which were irresisti- 
ble and could not be declined. 

And hence gradually grew up that great 
ranching industry of the great Southwest 
which has so signally flourished since long be- 
fore railroads offered adequate means of trans- 
portation. So, also, with this romantic ranch- 
life came the " cowpuncher," or " cowboy," 
with his " lariat," " lasso," " riata," or 
" rope " as it is variously designated ; came the 
" round-up," " the branding time," " the re- 
muda," " the cowpuncher's outfit," " the death 
dealing mill," " the wild stampede," " the drive 
up the trail," "the bufFalo hunters," "the 
chuck wagon," " the horse wrangler," " the 
squatter," "the nester," "the drifter," "the 
cowboy songs," and the " vernacular of the 
range." With all these came also that wild, 
bold, semi-nomadic, semi-chivalrous life of the 
cattleman co-incident with the settling up of 
the millions and millions of acres of land, ad- 
mittedly the most productive and fertile in the 
known world. For in addition to the great 
ranges and numberless farms, the very heart 



PREFACE 

of this territory is now yielding such commer- 
cial commodities as coal, oil, gas, sulphur, salt, 
quick-silver, iron, copper, and mica, with a host 
of other products, the valuation of which 
would be fabulous, and to an unskilled account- 
ant, unbelievable. 

In this simple story many of the outstanding 
characteristics of the old time cowpuncher or 
cowboy have been faithfully portrayed. " Old 
Uncle Reuben Brown " is mythical in name 
only, for his counterpart can be seen all over 
the Western Range. All of the " old-timers " 
among that rapidly disappearing class of 
American manhood known as " cowboys " are 
most lovable and delightful characters, simple 
in their manners, quaint in their speech, hon- 
orable in their dealings, and firm and steadfast 
in their friendships. 

They speak in the vernacular or dialect of 
the range, which is not only pleasing, but in 
many cases very forceful and to the point. 
Their philosophy of life is very sweet and 
wholesome. Their humor is most delightful, 
and their pathos very touching. The cowboy 
was here yesterday ; he is gone today. He 
rides in the dim shadows of the historic past — 
and will never come again. The eloquent story 
of Uncle Reuben Brown is told in perpetuation 
of this most virile and interesting life, which 



PREFACE 

lives only in the " yesterdays " of the cowboy, 
mounted upon the " hurricane deck of a 
cayuse," as he grandly disappears from our 
civilization. 

C. C. Walsh. 
San Angelo, Texas, 
August 1, 1917. 



TABLE OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



" An' thus we'd drive th' herd along 
Frum daylight until dark." . . Frontispiece 

TACING 
PAGE 

" When I fust cum out West — 
A ridin on a ale gray hoss." .... 2 

'' Yas, thar wuz lots of buffalo 
A browsin' on th' range." 8 

'' An' brand th' Mav' ricks as tha cum — 
This made our losses less." 10 

" But mostly tha, slept on th' ground 
In saddle blankets roll'd." 12 

'' You talk about Delmonico's 
Er Rector's swell caff ay! " 14 

" Th' cowboys comin' frum th' hills 

To have a jamboree." 16 

" We'd kill a beef 'most ev'ry night — 

The other feller's brand." ..... 20 

'" But every man wuz measured by . . . 

. How he'd throtv his lariat." ... 24 

" Now Durhams an' th' Herefords take 

Th' place of mangy steers." .... 26 

" Then thar's a change in trav-el-un 
Frum what it ust t'be." SO 

" Thar wuzn't any steam-cars then 

To ship our stock by rail." 31 

'" We traveled on from day to day — 
A goin' up th' Trail." 36 



FACING 
PAGE 

'* Sumtimes we'd ketch a man, you know. 

While changin' up a brand." .... 38 

" We'd try his case before Judge Lynch; 

Then hang him on a tree." 42 

" A teachin* him to ride th' bronchs — 
He needed lots o' salve." 44 

" An' so at night when we'd cum in. 
We wuz a jolly crew." 48 

" Th' boys all sqiiatted 'round th' f,re, 
A settin' on thair heel." 52 

" An' make our way across th' plains 
Along th' backward trail." 54 

" He liv'd upon th' open range. 
An' lov'd th' great outdoors." .... 62 

" Thair palus wuz a blam'd ole shack 

To shelter frum th' cold." Q6 

" Jist let 'em have thair head. 
An' tha wud sure bring out that steer." . 70 

" We never wuz ashamed of 'em 
In town, er city school." 74 

" Th' rattlesnake an' cotton tail 
Now occupy thair holes." 80 



CONTENTS 

OLD UNCLE REUBEN BROWN p^^j. 

Old Uncle Reuben Brown 1 

UNCLE REUBEN BECOMES REMINISCENT 

The Buffalo 7 

Life on the Open Range 12 

How A Man was Judged 16 

DoGiEs, Culls and Cutbacks 19 

The Passing of the Long Horn .... 24 

The Coming of the Automobile .... 29 

Going up the Trail 35 

Law and Order on the Trail .... 42 

Fun on the Trail 44 

The Badger Fight 45 

The Snipe Hunt 48 

The Old-time Cow Boy 52 

WOMEN OF THE WESTERN RANGE 

Mothers and Wives 61 

Daughters and Sweethearts .... 68 

THE END OF THE TRAIL 

The End of the Trail 79 



OLD UNCLE REUBEN BROWN 



OLD UNCLE REUBEN BROWN 

While sitting at my desk today, 

With nothing much to do, 
I heard a knock upon my door, 

And thinking it was you, 
I said, " Come in ! We're all at home ! " 

But what was my surprise 
To see Old Uncle Reuben Brown 

Step in, with laughing eyes. 

Old Reuben Brown, whom I have known 

For lo ! these many years — 
As good a man as ever lived — 

Who dries the orphans' tears ; 
Who has a smile for old and young ; 

Who lives from day to day 
In such a way that all he meets 

Have nothing aught to say 

But good of him, this noble man, 

Whom I was glad to see; 
For when he comes, he always brings 

A song of cheer for me. 
There's sunshine in his smiling face — 

There's music in his voice; 
And when he takes you by the hand. 

He makes your soul rej oice. 



[1] 



He's not an educated man, 

As education goes. 
He's not a social lion bold, 

With latest " tailored clothes." 
He'd not impress the proud elite 

With intellectual poise ; 
And then he does his charities 

Without the slightest noise. 

But when you look into his face. 

You'll read in every line 
That truth and honor dwell therein — 

This noble friend of mine ! 
There's trusting friendship in his glance; 

There's kindness in his eye. 
Abiding faith dwells in his breast. 

With hopes — that never die. 

He emigrated to the West 

Some time in Sixty-nine ; 
He opened up a little ranch 

Out on the frontier line ; 
Pre-empted all the land he could. 

According to the law ; 
Recorded here his marks and brands. 

And lived without eclat. 

From year to year, as time went on. 

He saw his land increase. 
Sometimes he'd buy a " nester " out, 

And thus insure his peace. 
[2] 




'When I fust cum out West — 

A ridrn on a ole gray hoss.'' — Page 7 



Sometimes a " squatter " he'd induce 

To leave a " water hole." 
Sometimes a " drifter " would sell out, 

And further westward stroll. 

Until at last, by honest toil, 

His acres now expand 
Across a rich and fertile plain 

Of finest grazing land. 
His cattle by the thousands roam 

Across this good man's range. 
And yet he leads the " simple life " 

And doesn't think it strange. 

And so, when he comes into town, 

He always " happens in," 
To chat a little while with me. 

Amid the busy din 
Of city life and business cares. 

It's like the breath of spring. 
To hear the music of his voice — 

His j oily bantering. 

" Wall, howdy, John! I jist drapped in. 

As I was passin' through. 
To see how you're a gittin' on ; 

An' how life's usin' you. 
O' course I knowed your maw an' paw. 

Way back in Sixty-nine — 
An' so I jist drapped in a spell, 

Why, John, you're lookin' fine ! " 
[3] 



" Glad to see you, Uncle Reuben ! 

Glad you came in today. 
Here, have a match, and light your pipe 

I know it's made of clay — 
But somehow, when you come around, 

And start to tell a joke. 
It never seems you're talking right 

Until you ' start a smoke. 



> ?> 



Old Uncle Reuben lit his pipe. 

And sat back in his chair — 
Then for a while he gazed at me, 

While blowing rings in air. 
Contentment shown upon his face, 

A smile played round his mouth. 
He was an old time pioneer 

Who loved the Sunny South. 



[*] 



UNCLE REUBEN BECOMES 
REMINISCENT 

HE TELLS OF EARLY DAYS ON THE WESTERN 
RANGE 



THE BUFFALO 

" Wall, John, I swan, it beat's th' deuce 

To see how things do change ; 
An' when I stop an' gaze aroun', 

I most fergit th' range. 
Th' barbed wire fence has blocked th' trail ; 

We drive no longer through 
To Kansas like we use to cud — 

It seems rite funny too. 

" An' when I think about th' time 

When I fust cum out West — 
A ridin' on a ole gray boss 

That alius stood th' test — 
It makes th' tears cum to my eyes 

When I recall that ride. 
So many of th' boys hav' rid 

Acrost the Great Dee-vide. 

" Thar wa'n't no peepul livin' here 

Whar this ole town now stan's ; 
But only cattul roamin' wild. 

An' thievin' Injun bands. 
Out in this wild an' wooly West 

White folks lived fur apart — 
An' thar war sights which I have seen, 

That almost broke my heart. 



[7] 



" Yas, thar wuz lots of buffalo 

A browsin' on th' range. 
You never see one of them now, 

But THEN it wasn't strange 
To see a awful cloud o' dust 

A risin' in the sky, 
An' in a little while you'd see 

Th' buff'lo goin' by. 

" An' since you spoke of buffalo — 

Remember onct, I jing! 
When we wuz ridin' 'long th' trail 

We saw a funny thing. 
Wall! 'twa'n't so very funny though. 

For we war skeert to death. 
We saw a millyun buffalo ! 

That made us hole our breath. 

" Wall ! p'raps there wa'n't a millyun, quite 

But 't look't like tha was more; 
A hundred thousan', anyway. 

You'd orter heerd 'em roar ! 
Th' pesky things cum o'er the hills, 

Acrost th' ole deevide — 
A show that wuzn't on th' bills — 

Declar, I lik't t' died. 

" We didn't know which way to turn ; 

' Buck Agar ' held us fast. 
We huddled up thar in a bunch. 

While tha went sailin' past, 
[8] 



^^ 



5^ l5 






I 




With dust a flyin' through th' sky 

Long after tha wuz gone. 
It made my har stan' up on end, 

An' I jist said: 'Doggone.' 

" When I cum here in Sixty-nine, 

This land wuz open range. 
An' you cud find the buffalo 

From Toyah to La Grange. 
Why, I have stood upon th' hills 

Surroundin' Lipan Flats, 
An' seen th' herds of buffalo 

As thick as flyin' gnats. 

" I've seen 'em cum acrost th' plains 

In sich treemenjus herds ; 
So clos't together an' as thick, 

I hain't got any words 
With which I kin discribe th' same ; 

But I'll declare to you 
That tha wuz wedged too awful tite 

To let a coyote through. 

" 0' course their meat wuz good to eat 

In fact, it wuz first rate. 
But when we tried to ship it out, 

It wudn't pay th' freight. 
We killed 'em mostly fur their hides. 

But I hav seen th' time 
When hides wuz corded up like wood. 

An' wuzn't wuth a dime. 

[9] 



" O' course the cow boys hunted them 

O'er mountain, hill an' plain, 
An' then at night th' lies tha'd tell 

About th' number slain. 
An', John, I tell it fur th' truth, 

Though you may think it strange, 
I killed one day jist eighty-six 

Ole buff'lo on th' range. 

" An' thar were fellers that I know'd 

Cud beat that all to smash, 
Who made thair livin' frum th' hides 

Which tha wud sell fur cash. 
These hides were brought to Angelo, 

An' piled up in th' street 
Jist like a lot o' corded wood — 

I never saw th' beat. 

" An' thar tha staid till tha were sold 

To leather men up East — 
Thar must have bin ten thousan' hides, 

Not less than that at least. 
But times have chang'd, as all things chang'. 

An' whar you used to meet 
Th' buff'lo hunter an' his hides 

You'll find a nice paved street. 

" Fur on one Febrooary day 

'Long back in Eighty-three, 
One of them cold blue Northers cum — 

A drizzlin', sleetin' sea 
[10] 



•s ^ 






ores 







Of ice wuz form'd upon th' plains, 
Which kiver'd all th' ground, 

An' not a single bite o' grass 
Cud anywhar be found. 

" Then on that day tha disappear'd. 

All of a suddint, like. 
I guess th' time had cum fur them 

To take thair last long hike. 
'Twuz anyway th' last of 'em 

Out here in Concho-land ; 
Jist as th' time will cum fur us 

To seek that Better Land. 

" An', John, sumtimes when I reflect 

Upon them passin' herds. 
Which staid here fur a little while, 

Ef I jist had th' words 
To say th' things I'd like t' say 

While time is clockin' on, 
Tha'd teach a less'n fur us all 

To learn before we're gone." 



[11] 



LIFE ON THE OPEN RANGE 

" Our cattul roam'd upon th' plains, 

We had no fences then — 
We only went by marks an' brands — 

We'd lose a few, but when 
Th' yearly round-ups druv 'em in, 

We'd kinda sorta guess, 
An' brand th' Mav'ricks as tha cum — 

This made our losses less. 

" We didn't wear no ' broad cloth suits ' 

Out on this Western range. 
We didn't live in paluses, 

An' didn't think it strange. 
Our millyun-airs liv'd like us all, 

An' didn't have th' gout 
Frum sich rich grub we now hear'n of 

To burn th' stummicks out. 

" Thair palus wuz a blam'd ole shack 

To shelter frum th' cold. 
But mostly tha slept on th' ground 

In saddle blankets roll'd. 
Blue sky was all th' coverin' 

Tha got most of th' year. 
Thair saddle fur a piller serv'd. 

With cow boss hobbl'd near. 



[12] 



?& 









Orcj - 




" Of ' mainyoo cards,' tha never herd ; 

Thair ' Bill O' Fare ' wuz thin — 
A little bacon in a pan, 

Sum coffee in a tin. 
Sum ' dog bread ' bak'd upon th' coals, 

Sumtimes a little * Rye ' — 
Jist tak'n fur th' stummick's sake — 

Wuz all we'd ever buy. 

" Yas, John, an' thar were lots o' times, 

'Long in th' airly day, 
We didn't have a bakin' pan. 

Now liss'n what I say ! 
We'd mix our dough out o' th' sack. 

With taller from a steer, 
Then work it up in our ole ban's — 

You needn't look so queer ! 

" When it got * stifF,' we roll'd it out. 

An' wropp'd it round a stick ; 
Then hilt it o'er th' coals to bake, 

An' cook it dun rite quick. 
An' while sum one 'uz bakin' bread, 

Sum other'd brile th' meat, 
While sum biled cofFy in a can ; 

Then we'd set down to eat. 

" You talk about Delmonico's, 

Er Rector's swell caff ay ! 
Tha cudn't tech th' feast we had 

'Long in that airly day. 
[13] 



When we wuz campin' on th' range 

'Twuz hunger made th' sauce; 
An' things we had to eat, you bet, 

Look'd good without th' gloss. 

" We'd kill a beef 'most ev'ry night — 

The other feller's brand. 
We'd cook it to th' heart's delight — 

I tell jou it wuz grand ! 
An' then, when we laid down t' sleep 

Beneath th' deep blue sky. 
Our conscience didn't worry us, 

Ner coyotes howlin' nigh. 

" But when th' time fur brandin' cum 

Around each year, you'd see 
Th' cowboys comin' frum th' hills 

To have a jamboree. 
Th' eatin' then could not be beat, 

No whar in Boston town ; 
When all th' boys wuz feelin' good. 

An' no one das't to frown. 

" Them ' Mountain Oysters ' which wuz served 

Up in th' grandest style — 
Bril'd on th' coals, jist steamin' hot — 

Wud make a lobster smile. 
An' then, that other dish, by gosh, 

Thair's nothin' like it, quite; 
I'll bet I've eat ten gallons of 

That stew — ' heifer's delight.' 
[14] 



" We didn't take no pepsin then 

To make our food digest. 
Our stummicks were like ostriches'; 

An' we did not invest 
In any patent medicines. 

Th' doctors all 'ud starve 
Ef tha depended upon us 

To git a chanc't t' carve." 



[15] 



HOW A MAN WAS JUDGED 

" Out here we didn't judge a man 

By dollars in th' bank. 
We had no time fur * social stan',' 

Ner what sum called ' high rank.' 
But every man wuz measured by 

His honor, grit an' nerve; 
An' how he'd throw his lariat 

Out in a triple curve. 

" An' when we fust cum to th' West, 

We never did inquire 
Too clos't about a feller's name 

He wore back in Ohier. 
That other name belong'd to him — 

Why need it worry us ? 
An' ef he wished to change his brand. 

We didn't give a cuss. 

" Now let me say a word rite here — 

An' mind you what I say — 
Jist lots o' men that chang'd their names 

Had seen a better day. 
An' when tha got an equal chanc't, 

Out whar th' range wuz free, 
Tha settled down upon a claim 

An' prov'd thair peddygree. 



[16] 






a 2 
a .2 



^ 



1 1 



orq 







" I long ago concluded, John, 

An' hit upon a plan ; 
That when a man will try to do 

Th' very best he can. 
An' thus wipe out th' past o' his'n 

'Long with his tother name, 
We'd best let well enuf alone. 

An' help him boost th' game. 

" But when a ' cut back ' cum in camp, 

We'd soon discover him ; 
An' ef he didn't soon ' fill up,' 

Th' boys 'ud ' douse his glim.' 
We alius tried to keep th' herd 

Free from ' off color ' stuff ; 
An' all the ' sweaters ' had to git, 

Er we 'ud ' call ' thair bluff. 



Into the camp one night. 
All full o' * rot gut ' whiskey, an' 

Tried to pull off a fight. 
Th' boys jist let 'em have thair way — 

Until tha pull'd a gun — 
An' then tha waded into 'em. 

An' put 'em on th' run. 

" Tha didn't have th' sand an' grit 
To stand an' fight like men. 

But soon tha show'd th' * yaller streak '- 
An' John, you'd orter ben 
[17] 



A layln' thar whar I was bunk'd, 
An' heard them ' cut backs ' yell ; 

Our boys clean'd out th' whole shebang, 
An' give them ' sweaters ' — well ! 

" I won't say what I's goin' to say — 

Because sich words don't sound 
Jist like tha did upon th' Range, 

Without no wimmern 'round. 
But somehow we jist had to speak 

In that emphatik way — 
An' when we did, tha understood, 

Jist how th' ground 'ud lay." 



[18] 



DOGIES, CULLS AND CUTBACKS 

" Now, John, you spoke 'bout ' dogie stuff ! ' 

Wall, that brings back t' me 
A little reminiscence of 

Th' life — that used t' be. 
A ' dogie calf ' is like sum folks 

That we so often know. 
Who wander from th' narrer path 
An' don't knov»^ whar to go. 

" Remember onc't I own'd a ca'f 

Who's mother wasn't near, 
When it cum from th' beddin' ground 

An' follered off a steer. 
I tried to stop th' little fool, 

An' started in a lope 
To head it off an' turn it back. 

But hed fergot my rope. 

" Th' steer run out acrost th' range, 

That fool ca'f run behind, 
Until I got plum out o' breath 

An' said sum things unkind. 
It hadn't sense enuf to see 

That steer was not its maw, 
An' I jist laid rite down an' laff'd 

A hearty loud ha ! haw ! ! 



[19] 



" ' Go it ! you little fool,' I cried, 

A rollin' of my thumbs — 
' He ain't your maw ; you'll find it 

Out when suckin' time cums.' 
It never saw its maw agin'. 

An' so fur want o' milk 
That ca'f becum a ' dogie runt,' 

An' tail'd ofF with its ilk. 

" An' I know lots o' folks today 

A trailin' off strange gods. 
A thinkin' tha air somethin' grate, 

A judgin' by thair nods. 
Who, when it gits too late to turn 

Back frum th' life tha'v led, 
Will wish that tha wuz back at home, 

A eatin' mother's bread. 

" An' thar air certain gells today 

Jist like that dogie ca'f. 
Who hav'n't got a bit more sense 

Than stan' aroun' an' lafF 
At th' cute things sum ' gilded fule ' 

Will say to lead 'em on — 
Until too late tha'll wake an' find 

Thair pride an' honor gone. 

" Yas, thar's th' ' cutbacks ' an' th' ' culls ' 

You'll find in every herd — 
No matter how you grade 'em up — 

I swan — I pon my word ! 
[20] 






^' S 







Tha will creep in despite of all 

Th' care an' pains we take ; 
Don't make no diff 'rence how we feed — 

On choicest hay er cake. 

" I've owned some herds as fine as silk, 

An' tended 'em with care ; 
Until I thought I'd never find 

A ' cull ' er ' cutback ' there. 
But when I'd make a sale o' 'em, 

An' cum to cut 'em out. 
We'd find sum of that ' tailin ' stuff. 

Without a shadder's doubt. 

" But we have larn't as time goes on 

About th' peddygree — 
That, ' blood will tell ' in cattul herds. 

As well as fam-bi-lee, 
That we can raise a thoroughbred 

As cheap as ' brindle ' stuff — 
An' ef a few ' cut backs ' creep in, 

We'U sell 'em quick enuf. 

" I've also noticed, John, by gosh, 

An' larn't sum less'ns, too. 
By watchin' of my growin' herds. 

Which may sumtimes help you ; 
An' that is this — er this is that — 

Which ever way you please — 
That thair are sumtimes * cutbacks ' in 

Th' finest peddygrees. 
[21] 



" It's not confin'd to stock alone, 

Not by a jugful, no! 
But tha air ' folks ' that I've heerd of 

Who must put on a show. 
When all at onc't while sailin' high, 

A thinkin' tha was it. 
Sum ' cut back ' in thair herd 'ud clip 

Thair soarin' wings a bit. 

" But since th' rule of Nature's law 

Is fix't — im-pla-ca-ble — 
Jist like th' Medes an' Persians wuz — 

Ir-rec-on-cil-a-ble — 
I've got an idee of my own — 

I think's a first rate plan — 
Jist do th' best we can fur 'em. 

An' help 'em ' be a man.' 

" Then, ef tha don't fill up, an' grow. 

An' shed thair mangy hair. 
An' look like decent folks shud look. 

We hadn't orter care. 
An' I'll take chances when the Boss 

'11 tally out His herd. 
An' prove the marks an' bran's we've made, 

He won't dispute our word. 

" I don't keer what the Scientists say 

About th' ' perfect breed ' 
Of animals er human kind ; 

I don't believ' thair creed ; 
[2^] 



That we can grow perfectshun here, 

An' imperfectshuns rid. 
I've tried it nigh on sixty year — 

It simply can't be did." 



[23] 



THE PASSING OF THE LONG HORN 

" In airly days we us' t' see 

The ' long horn ' on th' range. 
We didn't have much ' blooded ' stock, 

An' didn't think it strange 
Fur steers of ev'ry shape an' size 

Our holdin' bran' to wear. 
An' THEN we didn't try to show 

Our big stufF at th' Fair. 

" But times have changed, since Sixty-nine, 

An' we have larn't to grow 
Th' baby beef that you read of, 

An' see down at th' show. 
Now Durhams an' th' Herefords take 

Th' place of mangy steers — 
Poll'd Angus Cattul drive away 

Th' dre'd o' hunger's fears. 

" Th' price o' cattul has improved. 

As we've improved th' breed, 
Jist like th' cotton, maize, er com 

Improves with better seed. 
An' as we learn from year t' year, 

How to grade up our herd — 
By stickin' clost to Nature's law — 

We git th' cream fur curd. 



[24] 



-ft ^ 
















" I don't know whar it's goin' t' stop, 

But, John, I'll swar to you 
I'm dumb to gosh ef I can see 

Whar things is goin' to. 
We ust t' think eight dollars high 

Fur cattul on th' range, 
But now a steer at sixty, nigh. 

Don't bring enuf o' change. 

" I've seen th' time you cudn't give 

A yearlin' calf away — 
But land o' goshin ! tha will now 

Bring thirty any day. 
An' then a cow with suckin' caf 

Sold well to get fifteen. 
But now — tha'll bring round seventy. 

Although tha're lank an' lean. 

" ' Thar's quite a diff 'r'nce, John, you say ; 

Thar is that, I'll admit — 
But thar's a reason fur this change. 

You cum t' think of it. 
* High cost o' livin' ' figgers sum. 

As cattul men all know. 
An' ef th' price keeps goin' up, 

Poor folks won't have a show. 

" Oh, yes, economists will say — 

Tha alius talk by rule — 
That money's cheaper than it wuz 

When we wuz kids at school ; 
[26] 



That cows ain't wuth no more today 
Than back in Sixty-nine — 

But we know better, don't we, John? 
Don't eight and one make nine? 

" A pound o' beef's a pound o' beef 

Out here in this man's town. 
An' when it sells at thirty cents, 

We know 'tain't comin' down. 
Thar was a time when you cud buy 

Sir-loin fur seven cents ; 
Now when it sells fur twenty-five. 

It's needin' no comments. 

" An' then look at th' price o' shoes ! 

Tha're goin' out o' sight. 
I bought my gell a pare today — 

I didn't think it rite. 
But do you know th' price I paid 

Fur that small pare o' shoes? 
'Twas fifteen dollars as I live ! 

I almost got th' blues. 

" And when I priced sum fur myself, 

I went up in the air; 
Tha wanted seven ninety-five 

Fur that ole brogan pair. 
I bought th' shoes, an' put 'em on. 

An' walked off down th' street 
A feelin' like a bloomin' fule 

At every friend I'd meet. 
[26] 



" But then when I got back t' hum 

I tried t' think it out — 
Wall, after all 'twas not so bad 

Fur me, a clumsy lout. 
Fur when I figger'd out th' price 

I'd jist got fur a steer, 
Th' price o' shoes was 'bout th' same, 

Er it cum mighty near. 

" An' then th' price o' saddles, too, 

Down at Joe Miller's shop's 
A heap sight more'n tha ust t' be. 

An' even razor strops 
We ust t' buy fer eighty cents 

Will cost you two whole bucks. 
That's goin' sum I'd have you know, 

But what's th' differ'nc'? Shucks! 

" We're livin' better far today 

Than back in Sixty-nine, 
With schools an' churches ever'whar 

A sowin' seed dee-vine. 
With men a mendin' of thair ways, 

Frum what tha ust t' be; 
An talkin' 'bout that Better Range 

That after while tha'll see. 

" I cum t' think of it, by gosh, 

I'm glad I'm livin' still. 
To see th' time when flowers bloom 

In every dale an' hill ; 

[27] 



To see our land so prosperous 
In these last days o' mine's 

Enuf t' make me glad an' gay — 
These grander, better times." 



[28] 



THE COMING OF THE AUTOMOBILE 

" Then thar's a change in trav-el-un 

Frum what it ust t' be. 
I wonder what th' boys 'ud think 

If tha'd come back an' see 
Th' way we're gittin' over ground, 

Out here upon th' plains? 
We don't ride like we ust t' did 

Before we built our lanes. 

" We tuk sich pride in bronchos then, 

An' rode to beat th' band. 
But that's all changed since airly days, 

Out here in Concho Land. 
Instead o' drivin' bronchos now. 

Hitched to a fambly hack. 
An' goin' fifty mild a day. 

With jist a little snack 

" To eat, as we went up th' trail, 

We go a swifter gait. 
An' make two hundred mild with ease — 

Besides, we ride in state ! 
Th' auto-mo-beel's cum to stay 

I guess, I must admit. 
But when th' blam'd thing fust show'd up, 

I lik't to had a fit. 



[^9] 



" Wliat good cud that con-trap-shun be? 

That's what I'd like t' know ! 
To any ranchman on th' range? 

An' how'd he make 'er go ? 
An' how'd he keep th' cattul frum 

Stamp-pee-din' to th' hills? 
An' how on airth'd he ever pay 

Th' blasted feedin' bills? 

" I look'd th' creetur over good, 

An' tried to learn th' way 
That it cud feed on gas-o-leen 

Instead o' grain an' hay. 
An' when th' feller at th' wheel 

Indooc'd me to git in, 
An' take a ride acrost th' plains, 

I smil'd a silly grin. 

" He pull'd a little lever out ; 

He push'd another in; 
An' then th' smoke begin to spout, 

Amid a awful din 
Of noise, like startin' of a train, 

Th' wheels begin to turn — 
An' then, you orter seen 'er go. 

An' I, sez I,—' Gol durn 1 ' 

" I didn't think it cud be dun, 
But that macheen made tracks 

Way out acrost th' old deevide. 
Like roarin' cat-a-racks, 
[30] 



>3 

8 I 









Qrcj n, 




An' in less time than you'd be-leve 

We'd gone a hundr'd mild, 
While I jist set an' look'd aroun', 

An' sumtimes, lafF'd an' smil'd. 

" Well ! by th' time that we got home 

That slick tongued motor man 
Had talk'd me into buyin' it. 

I'd seen how smooth she ran. 
Oh! yes, he'd made it clear to me, 

That I must have th' thing. 
I'd save a thousan' ever year 

An' much enjoyment bring. 

" It was a Hudson Super-Six, 

Er sum sich name, he said ; 
An' did th' work of eighty boss, 

A standin' in th' shed. 
Yes, we cud round up cattul, too — 

He said that's whut he'd dun — 
An' we cud go a huntin' with 

A rapid fier gun. 

" Besides that, when our work was dun, 

The pleasure we cud see, 
A drivin' through th' naborhood, 

Er to a ' Spellin' bee.' 
We'd see th' folks fur miles aroun' — 

At least that's whut he said — 
An' we cud always git back home 

In time t' go to bed. 

[31] 



" He tole me it was cheeper far 

To drive than drive a hoss. 
That * without hitchin' ' it wood stan', 

An' I cud be th' boss, 
An' drive whurever I dum please, 

An' stop her * quick as wink.' 
An' so I ups an' bought th' thing — 

Before I stopt t' think. 

" I tuk sum lessons frum th' guy 

On how to run my car. 
An' then, I wrote him out a check 

Which he cud cash at par. 
He hung about a leetle while, 

An' then lit out fur town ; 
While I lookt like a bloomin' fule, 

Whose name was Reuben Brown. 

" Wall, after I had bought th' car, 

I sez to me, sez I, 
* Now, Rube, you'd better hitch 'er up, 

An' try 'er out a try.' 
' I guess I will, by gosh,' sez I ; 

Then tightn'd up th' reins. 
And fork'd into th' saddle square, 

A smoothin' down her manes. 

" I call'd Jerushy Ann t' cum ; 

To never mind th' stew. 
An' git in our new drivin' hack — 

We'd go a mild er two. 
[32] 



So after we had all got in, 

I let 'er have her head; 
An' then my wife commenc't t' yell, 

' Stop, Rube, you'll kill us dead ! ' 

" But I rar'd back in that front seat. 

With both ban's on th' wheel; 
I druv th' spurs into 'er sides 

Until I made 'er reel. 
We headed fur th 'open road, 

I kept a feedin' juice 
Until you'd thought ole Satan an' 

His imps had brok'n loos. 

" My wife wuz skeert purt nigh t' death ; 

The children thought it fun, 
But every time she holler'd, ' Stop,' 

Th' kids yell'd, ' Let 'er run ! ' 
Wall, when we got back home at last 

We sure had frighten'd her. 
Fur we had gone a hundred miles 

By that spee-dom-e-ter. 

" When wife an' I go ridin' out — 

Fur to put on a show 
In that new car we bought last June — 

I wish that you cud go 
Along with us, an' see th' fun. 

You'd split your sides t' see 
Th' way I holler at th' brute. 

An' say, ' Haw there ! — Now Gee ! ' 
[33] 



" I've owned that car about three months. 

I've larn't to drive 'er too ! 
An' so Jerushy Ann an' me 

Driv in here to see you. 
An' John, I'm tellin' you th' truth, 

I Hke that car jist fine, 
An' wouldn't swap it fur th' bronchs 

I druv in Sixty-nine." 



[34] 



GOING UP THE TRAIL 

" You want to know about ' Th' Trail '? 

Wall, when I cum to think 
About them days now past an' gone, 

I kinda' have to blink 
To keep th' dew out o' my eyes ; 

Fur them 'uz times you know 
Which tried men's souls as well as nerve, 

When up ' Th' Trail ' we'd go. 

" I've seen a lot o' hardships, John, 

In this long life o' mine. 
I've faced a lot o' dangers, too. 

Along th' frontier line. 
I've been a saddle-warmer now 

Fur nigh on sixty year; 
An' I know sumthin' of th' life 

Th' trail men liv'd out here. 

" Thar wuzn't any steam-cars then 

To ship our stock by rail; 
We cudn't take th' water route. 

So we went up th' Trail. 
Th' market wuz a long way off. 

An' many nights we'd lodge 
Whar dangers lurk'd on every hand, 

Frum Beeville to Fort Dodge. 



[35] 



" Mid cattul thieves an' Injun bands, 

Mid storms o' sleet an' cold — 
Fur many weeks, an' sumtimes months 

In our ole slickers roll'd — 
We'd camp out on th' open range. 

An' guard our cattul train. 
No matter what th' weather wuz. 

In blindin' snow, er rain. 

" At night we'd bed th' cattul down, 

Beleevin' all wuz well — 
Sum little thing 'ud frighten 'em, 

Jist what, we cudn't tell — 
You'd hear a beller, then a roar, 

No one cud intercede ; 
Th' whole blam'd herd was on th' run, 

In one great, wild stampede. 

" Th' boys struck spurs into their bronchs. 

Not waitin' fur th' word. 
An' flank'd th' frenzied leaders in 

Upon th' flyin' herd. 
Then more an' more tha press'd 'em back 

Into a circle bent. 
Until tha got to millin' round, 

Whar all thair force wuz spent. 

" Th' herd kept circlin' round and round, 

With beds up in th' air ; 
While clashin' horns and snortin' steers. 

Sure rais'd a bedlam there. 

[36] 



Jist like a rope winds round a reel, 

Amid a awful din 
Of noise you'll wanta hear but onct, 

Tha kep a drawin' in. 

" Until, at last, th' ' mill ' was form'd, 

Th' dangers of stampede 
Wuz thus brought to a sudd'n end. 

Thar wuz no longer need 
To keep th' bunch in that close herd, 

An' many cattul kill, 
So we commenct to lay our plans 

Fur to unwound th' ' mill.' 

" Cowpunchers rode up on th' flank, 

Then form'd into a wedge. 
Tha slowly work'd thair way into 

Th' cattul on th' edge. 
Then gently turn'd 'em ' tail about ' ; 

Th' ' mill ' was thus unwound. 
An' in a little while tha's back 

Upon thair beddin' ground. 

" You can't describe th' dangers of 

A gin-u-wine stampede 
Of f righten'd cattul on th' Trail ; 

An' sum hav never seed 
Th' way tha act when millin' round. 

But I'm right here to say 
That men have tri'd to break th' * mill ' 

Who had thair lives to pay. 
[37] 



" Ef tha got caught within th' ' mill ' 

'Twas ' good-bye, Lizy Jane ' ; 
Fur tha'd be ground into a pulp — 

Both boss an' rider slain. 
No man caught in that whirlin' mass 

Cud hope fur to be saved; 
An' I've seen horse an' rider crush't, 

While all th' cowboys rav'd. 

" An' then, again, we'd go fur days 

Without a single sign 
Of comin' trouble anywhars ; 

An' then, we'd all resign 
Ourselves to fate an' trust to luck, 

But woe be unto us ! 
Fur quiet comes before th' storm, 

An' then we'd swear an' cuss. 

" Fur it sumtimes has seem'd t' me. 

Without the slightest cause 
That any one of us cud find. 

An' then without a pause, 
Th' herd commenct to millin' round — 

I never seed th' beat — 
While poundin' huffs an' clattr'n horns 

Wud scare us up complete. 

" Remember onct, upon th' Trail, 

When we 'uz short o' men ; 
A howlin' storm cum up at night — 

Thar wuz no holdin' pen. 
[38] 



Th' lightnin* flash'd, th' thunder roared; 

Th' beddin' ground wuz soakt ; 
Th' wind blow'd Hke a hur-ay-cane — 

Declar', I likt t' croak'd. 

" Our cattul got to millin' then ; 

Jist goin' round an' round. 
The lightnin' play'd upon thair horns 

All o'er th' beddin' ground. 
It wuz a fearful sight to see, 

An' we all helt our breath 
Until th' storm pass'd over us — 

We wuz most skeert to death. 

" An' then th' moon broke through th' clouds, 

It wuz a splendid sight, 
As ever I laid eyes upon — 

That awful stormy night. 
Th' boys rode round th' frighten'd herd, 

A singin' soft an' low, 
Until tha got 'em turn'd around ; 

Then, got 'em goin' slow. 

" Thar's sumthin' in the cowboy's song, 

Long in th' dead o' night 
When tha ride singin' round th' herd. 

That makes 'em quit th' fight. 
Thar's music in thair crooning notes 

That quiets them o' fear — 
Thair long, low whissel makes 'em feel 

Thay've got a friend that's near. 
[39] 



" We didn't lose a single hoof ; 

But you can bet your life, 
Next momin' when tha got strung out 

Thar wuzn't any strife 
Among our herd th' whole day long. 

Tha'd had thair little spree, 
So tha wuz glad enuf to rest 

Beneath sum shady tree. 

" An' thus we'd drive th' herd along 

Frum daylight until dark 
Across th' open mesa land — 

It wuzn't any lark ! 
An' then at night we'd strike our camp. 

An' place our guards about 
To keep th' herd from roamin' off — 

An' ef tha did — to shout. 

" Our * Trail Boss ' wuz a man o' brains ; 

A gin'ral, tried an' true. 
Who never shirk'd frum anything 

Th' whole long journey through. 
He'd place a man * point on th' left,' 

A man ' point on th' right.' 
Another man plac'd ' in the swing,' 

To keep th' herd frum fright. 

" And then, with ' flankers on th' right,' 

An' « flankers on th' left ' ; 
A man to bring along th' * drags,' 

So that thar'd be no cleft ; 
[40] 



We traveled on from day to day — 

A goin' up th' Trail. 
An' ef great dangers we 'ud meet, 

Our hearts 'ud never quail." 



[41] 



LAW AND ORDER ON THE TRAIL 

" Ole trail men won't tell all tha know, 

About th' things tha dun 
When tha 'uz going up th' Trail, 

Along in Eightj-one. 
Ner I don't sensure 'em one bit — 

Fur I was thar myself — 
An' I know things I wudn't tell 

Fur all yer gold an' pelf. 

" Fur in them days we had no law 

Except th' law of might. 
An' so, we met things as tha cum, 

An' did what we thought right. 
O' course, th' circumstances then 

Wuz dif-fer-unt frum now; 
An' we dun lots o' funny things 

That you might not allow. 

" Sumtimes we'd ketch a man, you know. 

While changin' up a brand, 
Er puttin' marks upon a steer 

He'd throw'd down in th' sand 
Which never did belong to him. 

An' when we did, you see, 
We'd try his case before Judge Lynch; 

Then hang him on a tree. 



[42] 



" This was th' quickest way fur us 

To break up gangs like that. 
An' when th' verdict had been read, 

It ended all th' chat. 
Perhaps, ef he'd been tried in court, 

He might, by chance, cum clear. 
But when Judge Lynch said, ' You must 
hang ' — 

'Twas alius right — purt near. 

" Then, ef a sneakin' hoss-thief cum 

About our camp at night. 
An' tried to swipe our mounts frum us. 

We'd surely treat him rite. 
Th' Vig-il-an-tees — whar wuz tha ? 

We didn't stop to learn; 
We'd throw a rope acrost a limb. 

Then he'd begin to turn. 

" We'd leave him swingin' on th' tree, 

An' tell just why he swung. 
Then, ef sum other hoss-thief seen, 

He'd maybe not git hung. 
An', John, I wish to say rite here — 

Now mind you, what I say — 
I don't be-leev that even now 

Thay've found a better way." 



[43] 



FUN ON THE TRAIL 

" You mustn't think frum what I've said 

We nevur had no fun 
As we wuz drivin' up th' Trail, 

When our day's work wuz done. 
You couldn't hold a cowboy down, 

Once when his work wuz through; 
An' so at night when we'd cum in, 

We wuz a jolly crew. 

" We alius took a cook along 

Who would prepare our chuck ; 
Then if we chanct to miss our snack, 

Sum one 'ud * pass th' buck.' 
Th' boys all squatted 'round th' fire, 

A settin' on thair heel ; 
An' then when through tha'd sumtimes 
dance 

The Ole Virginia Reel. 

" An' then th' capers tha'd cut up ! 

Jist like kids out o' school. 
The games tha play'd, th' songs tha sung. 

Without a tune 'er rule. 
But when a tenderfoot blow'd in, 

Th' gobs o' fun they'd have 
A teachin' him to ride th' bronchs — 

He needed lots 

[44] 



1/ 


* 








r 


1 

\ 


1 f7W ■ _ \ 




_ / • r ■ ^ . 
, ' '■ '"■ ■ \ ■ 5 . . i 

- '_;' "\; ^ '■ ■■"--. .V,'- ;■/ ' 



A teachin' him to ride t/i' bronchs — 
He needed lots o' salve." — Page 44. 



THE BADGER FIGHT 

" One time when goin' up th' Trail, 

Sum greenhorns j ined our bunch ; 
To learn jist how th' thing wuz did; 

Tha didn't have a hunch 
Of anything th' boys 'ud do — 

Wall, take it straight frum me. 
That long before a week wuz past 

We'd had a jubilee. 

" We 'lowed we'd have a ' badger fight ' — 

We alius went prepar'd. 
A brindle bull dog with th' herd 

Whose snarlin' teeth jist glar'd, 
Wuz kept chained to a axel tree 

Fur pulHn' ofF th' stunt ; 
An' then th' boys 'ud all hike out 

Upon their Badger Hunt. 

" Tha alius found one — certain thing — 

An' brought him in at night. 
With two long trace chains 'round his neck. 

Fur ' badgers ' sure will fight ! 
We made a ring out on th' grass — 

What awful lies we told — 
About th' dangers of th' brute — 

An' who'd th' ' badger ' hold.? 



[45] 



" Th' boys wuz bettin' fast an' loose ; 

Then tha got in a fight 
About th' one who's goin' to hold 

The * badger ' good an' tite. 
At last when no one cud agree, 

Tha settled it by vote. 
A tenderfoot frum Yankeedom 

Wuz chose to be ' th' goat.' 

" O' course he thought that he was it. 

An' swelled up like a toad. 
He never dremp't tha's stringin' him, 

True cowboy, a la mode. 
Th' ' badger ' plac'd beneath a tub, 

Th' bull dog wuz brought out ; 
Then every cowboy rang'd around 

To see th' bloody bout. 

" And then ' Old Bull ' paw'd up th' earth. 

An' growl'd like a she bear. 
Th' man from Maine look'd up an' smil'd. 

As if he didn't care; 
Then he pranc'd up and yank'd th' chain — 

Wuz that th' badger growl'd.'^ 
Jist then th' word cum — ' let 'er go ! ' 

Good Lordy! how tha howl'd. 

" Cowpunchers yell'd an' danc'd aroun' 

Like tha wuz fightin' Sioux, 
Th' tenderfoot, with chain in han', 

Wuz mad, plum through an' through. 

[46] 



Th' fire flash'd out of his eyes, 

His face got livid red. 
But when he saw th' ' badger ' there - 

* Oh, hell ! ' wuz all he said. 

" O' course it wuzn't any use 

In him a gittin' mad. 
He saw th' joke wuz on him good — 

So he cool'd down, by dad. 
Th' cowboys told him that's th' way 

Tha broke a * greenhorn ' in. 
Then after while he saw th' pint, 

An' smil'd a silly grin." 



[47] 



THE SNIPE HUNT 

" 'TwAS not a great while after that, 

Th' boys, tha all allow'd. 
That maybe tha'd a snip in' go. 

So tha made up a crowd 
To hunt th' snipes one stormy night 

While tha uz on th' ground, 
An' walk'd about six mild frum camp 

Whar plenty cud be found. 

" At last tha reach'd a dandy spot, 

Near a big water hole. 
An' then begin to argify 

Jist whar tha'd drive th' pole 
To keep th' bunch frum gittin' lost — 

Th' night wuz dark as pitch; 
Fur that wuz 'bout th' only time 

Tha'd cum out o' th' ditch. 

" Th' next thing wuz — ' who'd hold th' sack 

We'd brought to drive 'em in? 
An' that same greenhorn volunteered — 

Th' boys begin to grin. 
Tha show'd him how to hold th' bag — 

Wide open at th' mouth. 
Then tha begun to scatter out — 

Noth -— East — an' West 



[48] 



^^ 









2: fli 











■ ^ *■?'-'■' ^ ■ ^^sSi^^ 


■Up****-' . ^ 




^^^ 




r^^ 
^ 







" Th' man we left to * bag th' game ' 

Wuz cautioned to keep still, 
An' not to move until he heerd 

A whissel on th' hill. 
Then we all started back fur camp, 

An' tumbled into bed — 
So full of lafF we cudn't sleep. 

But not a word wuz said. 

" Next mornin' long 'bout four o'clock, 

As day begin to brake, 
Th' sky got rosy in th' East, 

We look'd toward th' lake. 
An' seen our * bag man ' cumin' in — 

His empty sack in hand. 
Then we jumped up and hoUer'd out, 

* How many snipes d'you land ^ ' 

" He didn't say a single word. 

But stood thar like a mule. 
He saw that he'd been trick'd again — 

That he had play'd th' fool 
Th' second time within three days ; 

An' then he meller'd down, 
An' in a little while got up 

An' lit out straight fur town. 

" We sure did hate to see him go ; 

He was a nice young man. 
An' he'd been thar just long enuf 

To give his cheeks a ' tan.' 
[49] 



The boys all holler'd ' Adios ! ' 

As he put on his coat ; 
But he jist sulk'd and forked his hoss — 

He'd know'd he'd been ' Th' Goat.' 

" Wall, after many days o' toil 

An' hardships on th' Trail, 
We reach'd th' place whar we cud ship 

Our tired herd by rail. 
An' then th' boys wuz all paid off — 

Lord, what a jamboree 
Tha all 'ud have, you never saw, 

When tha went on a spree. 

" Tha'd been so long upon th' road. 

This saddle-warmin' trip, 
That when tha wuz paid off at last, 

Tha acted like ' Old Rip.' 
Thair bronchs wuz worn and tired out. 

When tied up to th' racks ; 
An' so tha had to rest an' cure 

The ' set-fasts ' on thair backs. 

" Then while thair mounts wuz restin' up, 

Th' boys tuk in th' town. 
An' thar war times I didn't know 

My name wuz Reuben Brown. 
But all sich things must have an end, 

An' we must soon ' turn tail,' 
An' make our way across th' plains 

Along th' backward trail. 
[50] 



" John, sumtlmes when I think about 

Th' trips that I have made 
Along th' trail in airly days — 

I sumtimes am afraid 
That thar wuz many things we dun 

We wudn't do today. 
But times have changed since Eighty-one 

An' I have larn't to pray. 

" So, ef we didn't do th' things 

We orter then have dun, 
We'll have to blame it on th' times 

We liv'd in, when we run 
Our cattul up acrost th' plains. 

Th' world has chang'd since then. 
An' we don't have to chase th' durn'd 

Ole cow thieves frum thair den. 

" I've no apologies t' make 

Fur things done in th' past ; 
I've made my peace with God an' man. 

An' know it's goin' to last. 
So I'll take chances when th' Boss 

Cums to round up an' brand, 
You'll find my name is tallied in 

The Herd Book of His Land." 



[51] 



THE OLD-TIME COWBOY 

" Excuse me, John, a little while, 

Until I've had my say. 
It seems you've got me started now ; 

I don't know when I may 
Cum in and git another chanct 

To finish up my tale, 
An' so, I want to tell about 

The cowboy of th' trail. 

" Th' cowboy of th' present day. 

Is dif-fer-unt, you know, 
Frum whut he wuz in Sixty-nine, 

When thar wuz buffalo. 
It seems to me tha disappeared 

'Long with th' passin' trail. 
An' most o' them that we see now 

A steer cud never ' tail.' 

" His * outfit ' not elab-o-rate. 

But it best suited him — 
Ropes an' saddle, boots an' chaps, 

A ' cuttin ' boss that's trim. 
With clinkin' spurs an' rawhide quirt, 

Six-shooter an' a belt, 
An' then a pair o' saddle bags 

His other trinkets belt. 



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" Sombrero an' a woolen shirt, 

Red kerchief 'round his neck, 
Morale to feed his ridin' mount — 

When oats he had, a peck. 
A slicker, blanket wrapped up in, 

Tobacker an' a pipe, 
A pair o' breeches made o' jeans. 

On which his knife he'd wipe. 

" He never put on any * dog,' 

Despised all kinds o' show — 
He slept beneath th' clear blue sky, 

Mid cattul's peaceful low. 
He liv'd upon th' open range. 

An' lov'd th' great outdoors — 
He never cud be satisfied 

When sleepin' on th' floors. 

" With clearest eye, an' nerves o' steel. 

He knew no kind o' fear — 
With friendly glance, an' honest smile, 

A welcum glad to hear — 
W^ith open arms he'd take you in, 

Deevide with you his chuck ; 
An' let you sleep in his shakedown 

Ef you wuz out o' luck. 

" He lived a kinder silent life. 

Alone, upon th' plains. 
He didn't know jist how to shirk, 

Ef he had any pains. 
[53] 



In desert storms of alkali, 

In blindin' rain er sleet, 
Each day an' night wuz on th' job; 

An' never knew defeat. 

" He didn't know much o' th' ways 

Tha did things here in town. 
Ner much about th' wimmin folks — 

He hadn't settled down. 
But ef it ever fell to him 

To take one o' thair parts, 
An' shield 'em frum a sudden harm 

His eyes uz flashin' darts. 

" He didn't care a snap fer life. 

But held it cheap as dirt. 
An' lots o' times I've seen him lafF 

When with grim death he'd flirt. 
He, to his Boss, wuz true as steel, 

Wuz with him, right er wrong; 
He'd lay his life down at his feet, 

An' do it with a song. 

" The cowboy in my day liv'd hard - 

Shot quick, I will admit — 
But when he died, he'd face th' foe. 

An' never slink a bit. 
To serve his boss wuz his chief aim, 

An' see that when th' herd 
Wuz tallied up at brandin' time, 

It tallied with his wurd. 
[54] 



" Yes, every cowboy lov'd his mount — 

He calPd 'em each by name — 
An' never would he part with 'em 

Fur gold, er pelf, er fame. 
He lived with 'em, an' slept with 'em — 

An' when he whisseld, low, 
Tha'd leave th' grass upon th' range, 

An' to his side tha'd go. 

" You talk 'bout bosses bavin' sense — 

Tha have that, an' to spare ; 
Why, I've seen bosses that I've owned 

No feller'd ever dare 
To strike er kick when I wuz 'round. 

I'd bust his blasted head — 
Fur tha war smarter 'n any boss 

In arry book I've read. 

" Why I've owned ' cuttin' ' bosses, John, 

No man cud ever buy. 
In round-ups er in brandin' time. 

You'd orter seen 'em try 
An' show th' boys what tha cud do. 

Jist let 'em have thair head. 
An' tha wud sure bring out that steer, 

Er 'else tha'd drop down dead. 

" Tha know'd th' game as well as me — 
What's more, tha lik'd it too — 

An' when th' boys forked on thair backs, 
Tha know'd ther's work to do. 
[55] 



You cudn't work one of 'em down 

Ef you wud ride all day, 
An' 't seem'd like when you'd speak to 'em, 

Tha'd know jist what you'd say. 

" An' so th' cowboy an' his hoss 

Together liv'd and died. 
An' sumtimes when we'd bury 'em. 

We'd place 'em side by side. 
An' I've no doubt in t'other world. 

When I git on th' range, 
I'll find th' hoss an' cowboy there — 

Ef not, I'll think it strange. 

" Tha work'd together, true an' square 

An' shared each other's lot ; 
Tha liv'd out in th' wind an' rain. 

An' thought, as like as not, 
About how good it wuz fur 'em 

A livin' thar alone, 
An' how tha wudn't trade thair stand 

Fur kings upon a throne. 

" But now they've almost pass'd away — 

Th' range is breakin' up — 
An' as thar's no more work to do, 

Tha will no longer sup 
Thair coffee outen of a tin — 

Unless it's up above, 
Whar round-ups an' the brandin' time 

Are butt'er'd o'er with love. 
[56] 



" Excuse me, John, I can not help 

A sheddin' of a tear. 
Th' cowboy wuz my steadfast friend, 

I look down at his bier — 
I see what most folks now can't see. 

Because they never know'd 
Th' cowboy of th' airly day, 

An' all th' good he sow'd." 



[57] 



WOMEN OF THE WESTERN RANGE 



MOTHERS AND WIVES 

" Wall, John, I've talked so much about 

Cowpunchers an' thair mounts. 
About th' cattul herds an' trails, 

With other things that counts 
So much, when speakin' of th' life 

Our peepul liv'd out here. 
That you may think I've overlook'd. 

The one thing prized most dear. 

" I've saved th' best things fur th' last, 

Th' same as cake an' pie. 
Th' wimmern folks have play'd thair part 

Out whar th' Great Plains lie. 
Tha've play'd it, too, in sich a way 

To make men proud of 'em, 
Fur tha hev seen th' wild stampede 

No livin' man could stem. 

" Hence, I must say a closin' word. 

An' proper credit give 
To them brave souls upon th' Range — 

So few of 'em still live — 
Who sacrificed an' toil'd an' slav'd 

'Long in th' airly day ; 
Who waited fur us to cum home 

Until th' moon wuz gray. 



[61] 



" Who never murmur'd, nur complain'd 

At what thar wuz to do, 
But buckuld down upon th' job 

Th' whole long season through. 
Th' wimmern of th' Frontier Days, 

God bless 'em every one — 
While men ud work th' whole day through, 

Thair work wuz never dun. 

" Th' sacrifices which tha made 

Long in th' airly days — 
No human tongue cud ever tell; 

An' tha wud sure amaze 
Your wimmern of th' present time 

To larn what tha went through. 
Fur tha have surely dun th' things 

Which made these plains fur you, 

" To bloom an' blossom as th' rose; 

Fur whar our cities stand, 
Tha blaz'd th' way, with sobs an' tears, 

To make a ' Promised Land.' 
Tha went with us out on th' plains. 

Away from kith an' kin. 
To face th' hardships waitin' thar, 

A-helpin' us t' win. 

" Tha left th' luxuries of home. 
To make thair home with us. 
Tha said good-bye to all thair friends 
Without th' slightest fuss. 

[62] 



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Tha chose th' hardships waitin' thar, 

Without a sign o' fear 
O' dangers lurkin' all around, 

Without a nabor near. 

" Tha made thair home in sum ole shack 

Not fittin' fur a dog 
To live in, when we fust begun. 

With, sumtimes, an ole log 
To make a bench to set upon ; 

Thair furniture wuz rough, 
With mighty little of it, too ; 

Thair livin' sure wuz tough. 

" But what tha lack'd in fine display, 

Tha sure made up in grace — 
Fur everything seem'd like a home 

In that furlorn ole place. 
It takes a gentle female touch 

To make a home fur man 
In city fair, upon th' plains, 

Er whar th' Conchos span. 

" It's not so much th' wealth you've got 

That makes fur you a home; 
But it's th' joy an' sunshine thar, 

No matter whar you roam. 
That humble shack upon th' plains. 

So far from human ken, 
Becums a mansion fill'd with bliss, 

Ef love is thar fur men. 

[63] 



" Whar faith is found in large supply — 

Wimmern's sweetest leaven — 
Sweeter words can ne'er be found than 

Mother — Home — an' Heaven. 
So, ef we had no luxuries 

Within our lowly shack, 
It wuz made up in other things, 

Whar love wuz never slack. 

" Sumtimes, when I reflect upon 

What wimmern folks went through 
Out here upon th' Western Range, 

An' how tha had to screw 
Thair courage to th' stickin' pint, 

An' then hold on by grace, 
It makes me feel so proud of 'em 

I want to hide my face. 

" An' ef thar's any shinin' stars 

In heaven fur a crown, 
I want to see 'em wear 'em all. 

Please hear me — Reuben Brown. 
E'en then thar won't be haf cnuf, 

Fur tha desarve lots more 
To pay 'em fur th' life tha led, 

True hearted to th' core. 

" Our wimmern were th' bravest souls 
That ever liv'd er died. 
Tha cheer'd us in our gloomy days \ 
All hardships tha defied. 
[6*] 



Fur comfort, luxury, an' ease, 

Tlia didn't care a cent. 
But put thair shoulders to th' wheel 

An' great assistance lent. 

" Then what tha sufFer'd in them days 

From longin' thoughts of home ! 
So fur away from lovin' friends, 

Awa}^ from church an' dome 
Whose bell told when the Sabbath cum 

Tha never seem'd to mind, 
But liv'd thar in thair lonely shack. 

So brave, an' true, an' kind. 

" Tha giv us courage to fight on 

Our battles with a vim. 
Th' way wuz lonesum, an' th' road 

Sumtimes wuz awful dim. 
But when we'd look into thair eyes, 

Thar courage we wud find, 
Which giv us strength to battle on 

Mid hardships undefin'd. 

'* You talk 'bout wimmern bein' weak, 
An' needin' help t' stand; 
You talk about 'em lackin' nerve, 

When tha must take a hand 
In sumthin' needin' to be dun ; 

Now that's all bosh, by jing! 
I've seen th' time a man 'ud quail. 
While tha ud lafF an' sing. 
[65] 



" Th' weaker vessel she may be 

In sum things, I'll admit, 
But when you put her to th' test — 

I've seen her take th' bit 
Rite in her teeth, an' gallup off 

Whar sum men wudn't ride; 
Th' bravest soldier in th' bunch — 

That wuz th' cowman's bride. 

" Then, when th' ' woman's hour ' cum, 

Away out on th' plains. 
Without a doctor livin' near 

To ease her of her pains, 
I've seen her grit her pearly teeth 

While layin' thar alone. 
Until a babe lay in her arms. 

Her suff'r'n' to atone. 

" This is th' kind o' wimmern, John, 

Who settled in th' West. 
This is th' kind o' mothers, too, 

Who have our children blest. 
Tha left thair impress on thair sons. 

Upon thair daughters, too ; 
An' that is why we're proud of 'em - 

That's why I'm proud o' you. 

" Your mother wuz as sweet a gell 
As ever liv'd er died. 
I know'd her when a little tot. 
Law! How her mammy cried 
[66] 






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When she wuz married to your paw, 
An' moved out on th' range — 

So fur away from home an' friends, 
It surely did seem strange, 

" Fur she's been rais'd so tenderly, 

Mid luxury an' ease. 
Her mother didn't think she'd suit 

A cowboy, ef you please. 
But thar, she wuz mistaken, John, 

Fur she went rite to work 
An' did th' things upon th' ranch 

Which men ud sumtimes shirk. 

" That little jewelled hummin' bird 

Becum an eagle bold — 
With wings spread out upon th' plains 

As bright as burnished gold. 
Protected all her broodlings thar; 

An' taught 'em, in th' fear 
Of Him who guarded thair young lives 

An' held thair honor dear." 



[67] 



DAUGHTERS AND SWEETHEARTS 

Wall, when our kids wuz big enuf 

To send away to school, 
We sent 'em to sum college town 

Whar tha cud learn by rule 
Th' things we cudn't teach 'em here, 

Fur I am proud to say 
We wanted 'em to know th' things 

Which wud help us sum day. 

Remember, when our oldest gell 

Got big ennuf t' go 
Away t' college, fur t' lurn 

What other gells shuld kno. 
We sent her up t' ole Bryn Mawr, 

In Pennsylvania State 
Whar she culd git th' best thar wuz. 

As good, at any rate. 

So, after she'd been thar awhile, 

An' studied all th' brands. 
She got acquainted with th' herds 

That cum frum other lands. 
I guess she class'd up purty well 

Frum what her teachers wrote — 
I sure wuld like t' seen 'em, when 

Tha tried t' git her goat. 



[68] 



You see, she'd liv'd upon the range, 

An' rode out in th' sun, 
A takin' exercise all day — 

Just like th' cowboys dun — 
Until she got so strong and stout, 

'Twud make you lafF t' see 
Th' way she'd pick her muther up. 

An' lay her 'crost her knee. 

" She'd larnt t' ride so doggone well 

While lopin' o'er th' plains 
That I wuz skurt purt nigh t' death 

Th' way she helt th' reins. 
She'd saddle any bronch we had, 

Then fork upon his back, 
An' rope a steer as quick as wink. 

Without a bit o' slack. 

" I tell 3"ou, we wuz proud o' her. 

Fur thar wur lots o' times 
She'd do a cowboy's work all day, 

An' save me lots o' dimes. 
I didn't think it hardly rite 

Fur her to work like that ; 
But she 'ud lafF, then off she'd go, 

A-wearin' my ole hat. 

" Then, too, her nerves seem'd made o' steel. 
Fur she cud shoot a gun, 
An' bring a hongry coyote down 
While he wuz on th' run. 

[69] 



She seem'd to kinda like sich sport — 
An' she grew strong and trim. 

She had a perfect Venus form 
In body, arm, an' limb. 

" 0' course her cheeks and hans wuz tann'd 

Unto an olive hue. 
But when she'd look up in your face. 

With eyes of bluest blue, 
You didn't seem to mind th' tan, 

Fur she had in that look 
A winsum smile you never seen 

In any story book. 

" So when she went away t' school. 

We mis'd her like th' deuce — 
An't seem'd like every boss we had 

Wuz tryin' to break loose. 
Tha seem'd to miss her much as us ; 

So did th' cowboys, too. 
An' fur a time th' whole shebang 

Wuz dad burn'd awful blue. 

" She'd w^rite to us three times a week, 

An' when her letters cum, 
Cowpunchers all ud gather round 

Until you'd hear a hum 
Jist like a hive o' swarmin' bees. 

At all th' things tha'd say — 
When she wud write about th' stunts 

Th' other gells ud play. 

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" She'd tell about her studies, and 

Th' way tha taught up thar. 
She'd tell about athletics, and 

Th' pole vault and th' bar. 
She'd tell about th' tennis games, 

Th' basket ball, an' golf 
Until I thought I'd have to send 

Fur good old Doctor Rolf. 

" One day another letter cum, 

A-tellin' us th' news 
About her school, and books an' things. 

Along with her own views — 
In which she said, 'mong other things : 

* I'm workin' with a zest. 
But everything considered, maw, 

I like my gym th' best.' 

" Wall, then her grandma bristled up. 

As mad as a wet hen. 
* Now who is Jim, I'd like to know.? 

An' what, an' whar, an' when, 
Has she got time to fool with boys? 

An' what's he doin' thar? 
You tell her ef he don't make tracks, 

I'll pull his mangy bar. 

" ' Rube, write an' tell that gell, fur me. 
To swat that puppy love ; 
To let her mind be centered on 
Th' nobler things above ; 
[71] 



To tell that Jim to hunt new range — 
We ain't got none to spare — 

Er I'll cum up to ole Bryn Mawr 
An' give his hoss a scare. 

" ' You tell her that her grandma says 

To let young men alone ; 
To git her less'ns like she ought, 

An' not to be a drone ; 
That she must not take up her time 

A-foolin' round with Jim. 
She'd heap sight better try an' lam 

Sum ole long meter hymn. 

" * You tell her that she'd better watch 

Th' range she's ridin' through; 
Fur ef she sees a "Mavrick " thar, 

It don't belong to you. 
An' ef a " sleeper " she shud find, 

She mustn't brand it " Jim " ; 
This makin' love is all a farce — 

Tell her to dodge that limb.' 

" Her ole grandma wuz sure work'd up 
Until our gell writ back 
An' said, th' joke wuz all on us ; 

She cudn't tell a whack. 
Fur * gym ' stood fur gym-nasi-um, 

Whar ac-ro-bat-ic stunts 
Wuz taught to all, an' healthy folks 
Wuz made of all th' runts. 
[72] 



" Ag'in she writ, another time, 

That she had led her class. 
Had been elected president — 

Our little ' dogie ' lass ! 
Tha'd also made her cap-i-tan 

Of sum athletic team; 
It made me feel so blam'd stuck up 

I almost had to scream. 

" Th' time fur graduation cum. 

She'd led her class right through 
Four years of study an' hard work, 

Jist like we wisht her to. 
So when she writ she wanted us 

To see her graduate. 
We got so anxious fur th' time 

We cudn't hardly wait. 

" Her maw an' grandma an' her paw 

Got on th' kivered cars 
With winders in 'em on th' sides — 

We didn't mind th' jars — 
An' went to see th' show pull'd off 

In that fur Eastern town. 
Fur we wuz proud as we cud be 

Of our sweet ' Bessie ' Brown. 

" Tha had a great procession, John, 
Of all th' graduates; 
Tha march'd down in a double file 
With gells from all th' states, 
[73] 



All dress'd in white an' neat as pins — 
I tell you tha look'd fine — 

While we wuz strainin' of our eyes 
To see that gell of mine. 

" At last I seen her with th' herd, 

An' told her maw to look 
An' see how proud she walked along, 

While my old body shook 
With pride an' pleasure at the sight ; 

She wuz a thoroughbred, 
An' best of all, which tickled me, 

Wuz that her class she led.. 

" I said : * Look, Maw, at little Bess, 

Th' finest yearlin' thar.' 
She cudn't see th' gell at all. 

An' I said : ' Wall, by gar. 
Look at that gell with shinin' eyes 

A-walkin' with a hep, 
Th' only one in that great herd . . 

Who is a-keepin' step.' 

" 'Twuz then a woman turn'd around — 

She'd heerd th' things I said — 

An' handed Maw her ole spy glass: 

' Look at that gell, ahead.' 
Maw put th' glass up to her eyes — 

I give a nudgin' jolt. 
An' laffin', to th' woman, said: 
' Old Blaze don't know her colt.' 
[74] 




We never loiiz ashamed of 'em 
In tow7i, er city school.'' 



Page 75 



" Wall, that's th' kind of wimmern, John, 

We rais'd upon th' plains — 
Mothers, wives, and daughters all. 

With red blood in thair veins. 
We never wuz ashamed of 'em 

In town, er city school. 
Tha'd class a ' top ' all o'er th' earth. 

By any kind o' rule. 

" Th' trainin' which tha got out here 

Wuz hard, I will admit. 
But when th' drillin' time wuz past, 

Tha all wuz proud of it. 
Fur show me whar, in all th' land. 

More perfect wimmern grow 
Than what you see upon th' range 

With faces all aglow. 

" Th' strength of youth is in thair limbs ; 

Th' smile of peace an' joy 
Shines from thair eyes, so full o' hope. 

Without th' least alloy; 
Sweet innersence shines in thair face; 

A trustin' heart serene. — 
Th' mothers, wives, an' sweethearts, John 

Ring down th' closin' scene." 



[75] 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

" Wall, John, I must be mos'y'n' on. 

I've been hope up a heap 
A spinnin' of my little yams, 

Until you're most asleep. 
But sumhow, when I git strung out, 

A driftin' t'wards th' line, 
I jist can't keep frum thinkin' back 

On this ole life o' mine. 

" Fur everything I us'd to see 

'Long in the airly day, 
Th' life which then we us'd to live 

Has sung its solemn lay. 
Th' range has chang'd, th' scenes have chang'd, 

Th' folks have chang'd as well — 
An' in a little while you'll hear 

'Em ring my fun'ral knell. 

" Gone is th' ole time buffalo ; 

Gone is the open range; 
Gone is th' cowboy an' his mount. 

Gone — everything — how strange ! 
Gone is th' old bald eagle, too, 

Wild turkey an' th' deer; 
Th' stingin' lizard's 'bout to go, 

Th' horn'd toad, too, I fear. 



[79] 



" Gone is th' antelope an' bear, 

Th' Injun with his bow; 
Th' centipede an' praire dogs, 

Out here no longer grow. 
Th' rattlesnake an' cotton tail 

Now occupy thair holes ! 
Th' coyote gives a lonesum howl 

As progress onward rolls. 

" Gone is th' ole time pioneer, 

Who early blazed th' way. 
An' opened up th' trail fur you 

Who live this better day. 
Gone air th' faces I onct knew 

Who settled in th' West — 
An' soon I will be goin', John, 

To my last, long sweet rest. 

" I'm pretty near the great trail's end, 

Th' trail th' sun goes down, 
I'm passin' o'er th' last Deevide 

But thar ain't nary frown ; 
Th' valley land is jist ahead, 

Whar sparklin' waters flow. 
An' whar th' grass is nice an' green. 

An' shall forever grow. 

" The taller weeds an' browsin' brush 

Air growin' on th' hills. 
Th' shade is fine, th' grass is sweet, 

Down near th' flowin' rills. 
[80] 




mmf^,- y s. 



An' everything is jist to suit 

A cattul man like me 
Upon th' new an' wondrous range 

Which I can plainly see. 

" An' now I hear th' mockin' birds 

A singin' with a trill, 
While other birds make music in 

Th' trees out on th' hill. 
An' everything is lovely, John. 

It seems that I most sail ! 
Ah yes ! Now I know what it is — 

Th' endin' of th' Trail. 

" Out thar's th' Grand Ole Cap-i-tan, 

A ridin' in * th' swing,' 
With ' pointers ' on th' left an' right, 

An' * flankers ' who will bring 
Th' ' dogie drags ' all into camp — 

Oh ! what a wondrous sight ! 
Behold ! The Last Grand Round-Up, in 

Th' Valley of Delight." 



[81] 





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